


Date Night In

by Evandar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Werewolf Lavender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1611218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evandar/pseuds/Evandar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They haven’t had time for each other in a long time, but now that they do, all Parvati wants to do is sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night In

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift to Katmarajade as part of the Harry Potter Femmefest 2014.

She stepped out of the Floo to the enticing sight of Lavender sprawled on the couch, reading _Witch Weekly_ in her underwear. She took a moment to appreciate the view while charming residual soot off her clothing; Lavender was a sight for sore eyes, _especially_ since she hadn’t had the opportunity to see her in any state except fully clothed in weeks.

Damn her work schedule and Hermione Weasley’s inability to _stop_ working despite having a husband and child and her inability to understand that the people working with her actually _wanted_ a break every so often. Parvati had missed the sight of Lavender’s long, tanned legs and the feel of her skin and, well, everything about her.

“If you’re done, you can close the Floo for the night,” Lavender said. She dropped the magazine onto their coffee table, revealing a spread on Victor Krum, and stood. “No interruptions, remember?”

Yes, Parvati remembered. She’d made sure to clear her paperwork before leaving the office, and she’d asked – more like ordered, actually – her secretary – _definitely_ ordered; she should apologise for that – to clear her schedule for tomorrow until noon. She’d have to look into possibly buying the poor woman a fruit basket or wine or something, because she was pretty sure she’d sounded a bit hysterical towards the end there.

Their last date night had been an unmitigated disaster. Lavender had still been looking for a job at that point and had been utterly depressed by the whole thing, and Parvati had had to bail out part way through to answer the summons of the dreaded Weasley who’d wanted to make _exactly sure_ that she’d got all her facts right because – apparently – she still had nightmares about Parvati’s attitude to homework from when they were in school, and then Parvati had Flooed home to a dark apartment and a stony silence that had lasted for days. 

Not this time.

She flicked her wand towards the fireplace and blocked the Floo, and then slipped her wand back up her sleeve just in time to meet Lavender for a kiss.

Lavender had showered before she’d got in because she smelled lightly of violets instead of dogs and the loose braid of hair that Parvati tangled her fingers in was still slightly damp. She pressed closer, humming as she tilted her head and parted her lips in invitation. Lavender responded, pressing her tongue into Parvati’s mouth and curling it around her own; running her hands down Parvati’s back to cup her buttocks and scrape lightly at the backs of her thighs through her work robes. Parvati moaned but drew back.

“Let me get changed?” she said, though it came out more as a suggestion.

Lavender nodded. “Wine?”

“Please.”

Lavender abandoned her then, heading to the kitchen and the wine rack – fully stocked because neither of them had the time for hangovers these days – and Parvati watched her go, admiring the way her satin kimono slid over her skin; the dark blue bringing out the gold of her tan.

She licked her lips. Right. Getting changed.

Lavender liked lounging around in lingerie. She liked to relax in satins and silks, bedecked with laces and ribbons. She didn’t get any glamour during the day, working in a Muggle dog shelter, so she made up for it in her time off. Parvati, on the other hand, preferred looser clothes. She was the one who was squeezed into fashionably tight yet no-nonsense business robes all day, every day. 

Today’s no-nonsense robes ended up in a pinstriped heap in the laundry basket. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her pyjamas, but…date night. It was a date, still, staying in. Lavender was looking ridiculously gorgeous and encouraging her to drink, which _usually_ happened on dates (not that they’d had one in forever, but _still_ ). There had to be some effort involved.

She settled on a different set of panties – green and gold – and no bra. Unlike Lavender, she didn’t need one. Instead she pulled out one of Lavender’s button-down shirts – a leftover from a waitressing job that she’d hung on to – and left it open halfway. She was covered up, but not by much, and with any luck Lavender wouldn’t be able to resist. 

…

Lavender had a bottle of red open when she returned to the living room and two glasses poured. One of those glasses found its way swiftly into Parvati’s grasp, and she almost forgot to clink it against Lavender’s own before taking a long sip. Lavender didn’t seem to mind, though. There was a lightness in her blue-amber eyes that Parvati hadn’t seen for a while. It was good to see Lavender like this: happy and carefree like she had been in the days before the war and the lycanthropy and the resulting long, slow struggle to break free of unemployment.

Parvati leaned in for a kiss. “I love you,” she said. “Although, I’m half expecting something to go wrong, or, I don’t know, the stars to align and the universe to cry “NO” and drag one of us away.” 

Lavender giggled and flopped down onto the sofa, managing not to spill her wine in the process (werewolf reflexes came in handy sometimes) and pulling Parvati down with her. Parvati went willingly, curling up into Lavender’s side and tucking her legs up under her.

“Drama queen,” Lavender accused.

Parvati snorted. “I think I screamed at Demelza,” she said. “I hope Weasley doesn’t find out. If she does there’ll be pin-badges and embarrassing acronyms and an inter-office campaign to protect the rights and wellbeing of secretaries everywhere.” 

She took another sip of wine and tilted her head so that it rested against Lavender’s shoulder. If she looked down, she’d see into the neckline of Lavender’s kimono and have a close-up view of the curve of her left breast and the bite scars that marred it. She didn’t. She closed her eyes and shifted so that her face pressed into the crook of Lavender’s neck and breathed in the scent of violets that clung to her hair.

Lavender’s free hand slid up her thigh, under the hem of her borrowed shirt, and she traced the lace edge of Parvati’s underwear with her fingertips. “I ordered pizza,” she murmured.

Parvati hummed in reply, pressing a kiss to Lavender’s neck. “How long do we have?” she asked.

Lavender’s fingers skimmed closer to her groin and heat pooled in Parvati’s lower belly. She shifted ever so lightly – giving Lavender just enough room to slip two fingers between her thighs and rub her through her underwear.

“Quarter of an hour,” she said. “Or it’s free.”

And given that pizza was never free… “Bugger,” Parvati muttered, and drew away. Her wineglass was tilting dangerously in her hand, so she took another sip to try and reduce the potential spillage. 

“Not up for a quick one, then?” Lavender asked. She sounded like she was trying not to laugh, and Parvati leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“After a two month dry spell? You’ve _got_ to be joking,” she said. “Besides, it was bad enough being caught in the act by Padma.”

“The pizza boy is _hardly_ on the same level as your sister.”

“True, but not the point. No exhibitionism.”

Lavender rolled her eyes, but nodded. She’d always been the more openly affectionate out of the two of them. Parvati had rather horrible memories of seeing her draped all over Ronald Weasley, investigating his tonsils at every opportunity; Lavender was more subtle _now_ , but not by much, and Parvati suspected it was only because she knew how uncomfortable it made her.

Besides, she still couldn’t look Padma in the eye.

…

Two glasses of wine and half a pizza later, and Parvati was trying not to yawn. She’d tried, but food and alcohol and a ridiculous workload had conspired against her and Lavender’s arms were so _warm_ that all she wanted to do was curl up in the circle of them and sleep forever.

Or, at least, until noon tomorrow.

A part of her felt slightly guilty about the way her eyelids kept drooping, but she couldn’t help it, and Lavender didn’t seem too offended. She was idly tracing small circles on Parvati’s thigh and she was silent – her breathing soft and even apart from the occasional sigh.

Dinner conversation had revealed more about difficult dogs and power plays than Parvati had expected possible – apparently the same dramas and intrigues that existed in the Ministry were reflected in miniature in the dog shelter where Lavender worked – and her headache was exacerbated by the fact that she understood the dogs just as easily as the people. 

_“There’s this Chihuahua – Twitch-Ear, sorry, his owner calls him Snicket – anyway, he thinks I’m going to eat him, poor thing.”_

Parvati twisted in Lavender’s arms and pressed a kiss to the edge of her bite scar. Lavender twitched slightly, probably stifling a giggle – she was ticklish there – before she broke out into an enormous yawn, her entire body shuddering with it.

“Merlin, I’m sorry,” she said.

Parvati smiled, her guilt immediately dispelled. She shook her head and pulled away from Lavender’s warmth; stood and stretched. Two month dry spell be damned, this was ridiculous. 

“Bed,” she said. “Come on. We’re both knackered.”

“But…”

She took Lavender’s hands in her own and pulled. If she hadn’t wanted to move, she wouldn’t have, but Lavender came willingly, following Parvati down the hall to their room and into the soft warmth of their bed. They would still have the morning together, after all, and all the mornings after.


End file.
